


an unfathomable tie between you and I

by swanqueer_x



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueer_x/pseuds/swanqueer_x
Summary: "Somewhere on the other side of this wide nightand the distance between us, I am thinking of you.The room is turning slowly away from the moon.This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and sayit is sad? In one of the tenses I singingan impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine the dark hillsI would have to crossto reach you. For I am in love with youand this is what it is like or what it is like in words."- Carol Ann Duffy (Words, Wide Night)  An AU Swan Queen fic - with diary entries and the occasional sprinkling of poetry, Regina a freelance photographer, and Emma an artist, meet over the Internet and realise that they have more in common than they know, or ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
>    
> For anyone who reads this, first of all THANK YOU and secondly this is a WIP, please have patience, I can't promise I'll upload new chapters quickly. I have constant essays to do and part-time work. 
> 
> But I have high hopes for this and a SQ romance I want to tell, so if you like the look of this story, or have anything to say, don't be afraid to leave a comment. 
> 
> I've tried my best to edit this, but I can't promise it's perfect. 
> 
> Thanks and enjoy, 
> 
> \- Rozz, @reginasgay on Twitter.

 

* * *

**;**

 

A black Mercedes Benz purred as it rolled down the cobbled path. The warm, autumnal sunset was blinding the owner, even after it had forced her to pull down the sun visor. Parking her car in the normal spot, the brunette squinted at the sun as she slammed the door to her car and strolled up to her apartment block, her heels echoing every time they hit the ground. Reaching her apartment, she unlocked the door and placed the keys neatly onto the table to her right.

Carefully removing her black blazer and placing it onto the coat peg, Regina looked down at her clothes and straightened out her black pencil skirt. Deciding that maybe the idea to journal wasn't _that_ horrific of an idea, and maybe Mary Margaret was just trying to help, the brunette made her way into her bedroom.

Scratch that, the brunette thought as she looked across to her desk, Biro pens neatly in the dark purple pot. She _did_ think the whole journaling debacle was rather mundane, but maybe it would stop that incessant woman from telling her she has holding too much in and not letting anyone see her emotional side.

Like she'd ever asked for a patronising self-analysis? And from _Mary Margaret_ of all people. That woman was  _obsessed_ with expression and love and all the things you find in fairy-tales. And annoying Regina, it seemed.

Regina opened the draws to her desk and placed her hand on a black leather journal. Opening it up and ripping out pages with scribbles, she mentally vowed never to listen to the woman ever again. Well she normally didn't, and this was why. But she was her only... no. Regina would never say the 'f' word when discussing Mary Margaret. But she had to at least  _pretend_ she was listening.

Regina sighed and fiddled with the smooth pen, passing it from one hand then to the other. She then proceeded to stare at that cap, procrastinating the task ahead. After a good few minutes, she shook herself out of it and sighed.

"Focus Regina," she declared, frowning at the pen. Taking a huge sigh, she began writing:

 

" _Dear whomever is unfortunate enough to read this (probably my poor self when I have to check this for spelling errors),_

_I was politely told by my... acquaintance that my Photography is bordering on depressing, and if it is anything like my normal morbid (yes, she actually had the audacity to call me morbid) mood then I need to either take some counselling classes or write my 'problems' down._

_Well, I would never be seen dead in a place where alcoholics and others reside, so here I am. And I suppose, I do have 'problems', but doesn't everybody? I am still quite sure that I am fine, as fine as anyone else is._

_Alas, Mary Margaret doesn't see it like that, and neither does my oaf of an ex Robin, who spat out that I have innate control issues and all I care about is myself. If that idiot of a man couldn't handle my ambition and success, then he is definitely not a person I wish to surround myself with. I never really felt much towards that man anyway._

_In fact, I don't actually enjoy surrounding myself with people at all, I will confess. Little matters to me other than the camera, and what it captures. I am somewhat of a successful freelance photographer, travelling around Europe. I refer to my agency for available jobs which is where I was unfortunate enough to meet Mary Margaret._

_I am situated in York in England, though, after I left the sleepy town of Storybrooke, Maine to escape my mother."_

Regina looked up from her journal and frowned at the words _my mother._ She didn't wish to write about her. In-fact, if she thought about Cora Mills for one more second she might indeed throw up, and that would be entirely tiresome and set her back on her schedule. This was pointless, she decided; entirely and completely pointless.

But, for some strange reason, though she would hardly let herself admit it to anyone, part of her felt relieved to deposit some of her inner dialogue into something productive. So, for that reason, and another that was slowly becoming to niggle at her, she decided to continue.

_"Moving on from her, I probably find Emma Swan slightly tolerable, because I first spoke to the blonde over the internet. Despite my intense dislike towards social media, I created an Instagram account a few years ago in the hope of spreading my photography around further, as it turned out the business cards and word-of-mouth techinque just wouldn't cut it._

_Social Media, bitter-sweetly, worked, and I now earn quite a large amount of money on most jobs. Of course, money would not be a problem if I had taken my mother's offer and opened the account she had transferred millions in. As far as I can see, it is simply... pity money, a guilt trip if you like. I will never touch that money even if my life depended on it... Once again I have mentioned her. I wish not to discuss that woman, so I will continue._

_The main reason why I dislike social media is its far reaching aspects. The far reaching aspects that mean you get people like that Miss Swan commenting on your every photograph with why she likes it. Tedious. However that incessant woman just kept on pushing, and I eventually replied to the millions of unread messages she had so gracefully sent._

_In-fact, they were and are, everything but graceful. If I see one more emoticon or 'lol' or anymore acronyms, I will personally get on the next train to London and throw that blonde's phone directly into the Thames._

_According to her, the photograph I took at Rievaulx Abbey is one of the most beautifully morbid photographs she has ever seen. That word again, morbid. It seems to follow me around like a bad smell, just like Emma Swan has been doing for the last couple of months._

_Apparently, the leaves that were scattered everywhere really captured the essence of the fall, and the glow of the moonlight made her think of wolves. A photograph of a decrepit Abbey with endless history and a perfectly framed image and Miss Swan thinks of wolves. I have begun to notice that such a notion should be expected from her._

_That was the first thing she had to say to me when I finally replied. And ever since then she has crashed my phone with her constant messaging, and even graced me with a few unwarranted drunk phone calls. In a recent call, she declared that I am the 'hottest' woman she has ever seen. Not only have I only got one photograph of me on there, in the small circle icon, it is intentionally far away and conceals a lot of my face._

_When I responded politely that my face is bordering on invisible, and she is effectively calling a silhouette the 'hottest' woman she has ever seen, and her irritating messages weren't wanted neither were her phone calls, the blonde replied to me with, and I quote: "shhh Miss Regal Bitchiness, don't get your panties in a twist. You look hot from a distance and plus your voice is pure sex. It's like hot caramel, a warm coffee with cinnamon or a chocolate cake. Anything yummy. Or indulgent, that's what you'd say. It literally bleeds se-"_

_Which is where I cut the call as I didn't wish to hear any of the woman's sexual fantasies. The next day she texted me apologizing, saying she remembered enough and knows that I am straight and regardless, it will not happen again, she would not ever want to overstep any boundaries, etcetera._

_I didn't argue anything to the contrary, but why the blonde assumed that I am straight, I haven't yet discovered._

_As far as I am concerned, labels are strikingly unnecessary, but if I had to label myself, bi-sexual would suit me aptly. Evidently the blonde is a raging lesbian, if the images of her in those moth-eaten flannels and that hideous red-leather jacket are anything to go by. Or the obvious compliments she readily hands out. Or the fact she never stops talking about Angelina Jolie and her 'hand cutting cheek-bones'._

_If not for the fact the blonde was an artist originally from Boston, and extremely surprisingly also a poetry lover, I would perhaps not pay attention to her."_

Regina shuffled in her seat and tried to quash the thoughts that irked her, the ones which subtly whispered  _and those glimmering emerald eyes._ She could not afford to fall for anyone and she was extremely sure she wasn't anyway. Regina Mills certainly does  _not_ fall for people. Especially people she has only spoken to over the phone. Plus, they fall for her and that is how she likes it. It gives her the control, allows people to bend to her whims. Placing her pen back onto the page, she began writing again:

_"However, Miss Swan is perhaps the reason why Mary Margaret is concerned I do not let people in. For some reason, she thinks that I have some form of affection towards the girl. Affection...I do not think I have affection for the girl. But intrigue, as a fellow artist, and someone whom says that she likes poetry, that I have._

_(Of course, she told me that she likes the British poet Carol Ann Duffy, and I have heard that her work is tremendously easy to read and accessible. By the limited vocabulary the blonde has, it is not surprising that she would choose someone who creates such lucid work)._

_Mary Margaret thinks that it's time I let someone into my life, let someone see every part of me. Of course she does think that though, she is more invested in my life than myself. I did try letting Robin in, but obviously not hard enough. Not that I think I am to blame...it is possibly my job. I do travel a lot and commute to London to photograph, as well as Europe. That is my job, though, and I would not change it for anyone._

_Apparently, Emma and I have spoken long enough for me to finally agree to meet her. Agree, because as predicted, the blonde has practically begged to meet me, even offering to travel to York so I did not have to make the effort._

_While I appreciate the gesture, I don't know if it is something I want to do. It's not as though I have a large line of people queuing up to spend time for me, I don't, but somehow meeting the blonde just seems like a strange concept."_

 

Regina looked across at her phone, it was buzzing on her desk. It was glowing with the name Emma Swan. Leaving the message for a few seconds before she opened it, (a rule of hers to ensure she didn't seem interested), Regina placed her pen down and opened her phone. 

 

" _Fancy a call again tonight? I haven't drank ever since I said those...questionable things to you, lmao. And that was over a week ago, that's some commitment, right? It won't be a drunken call, just a catch up._ _"_

 

A smile threatened to emerge onto Regina's lips but she beat it down, and left it read for a few more seconds, as she also did as a rule. She had some photographs to upload to her pen drive but other than that, she had an evening free. 

 

_"What did I say about using 'lmao', dear? It is frustrating. I have some things to do tonight, then after that I am free. 7pm is probably a good time for me."_

_\- R"_

 

Her phone buzzed automatically. Regina sat back and folded her arms for about a minute then open the message. 

 

_"7pm it is, hear you later..._

 

_lmao."_

 

Frowning at the obvious attempt to irritate her, Regina placed her phone down. Her decision: she was not going to take the bait. She opened her diary to finalise what she was saying and get her lasagna cooked and photographs uploaded. 

 

_"Miss Swan has just texted me and asked for a catch up. I felt it necessary to close the diary by writing that I truly hope I have a nice dinner, as it will probably be the only nice thing about my evening tonight._

 

_\- R"_

 

...

 

Her dinner cooked and consumed; photographs uploaded, and her feet up on the couch in her lounge, Regina awaited the call with a glass of wine in hand. Just because Emma couldn't handle her drink didn't mean she couldn't.  

 

The phone rang, vibrating on her lap. Taking her time savoring the sip of wine, Regina glanced at her phone and with a sigh, clicked the green symbol.

The blonde's voice reverberated through Regina's ears, sweetly saying, 

 

"Hi."

 

Regina replied, "hey." And took another sip of her wine, while placing it down on the table to her right.

 

"What you drinkin'?" Emma asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Regina replied, smirking to herself. 

"Yeah. That's why I asked," the blonde sassed in response. 

"Well if you have to know," Regina hummed, "wine."

Emma grumbled down the phone, "how come you're allowed to drink and I'm not? That's sooooo not fair, damn 'Gina."

Regina snorted. "I never said you weren't allowed, but you can't control your drink, I can."

"Hmm, I suppose you make a good point." Emma replied, taking a breath and adding, "so what did you do today?" 

"Today I was offered the opportunity to photograph a variation of architecture for a newspaper, just a local one but it'll keep me busy for a week or two." Regina stated, thinking about the short deadline she had to meet.  

"Awesome. That's quite a big deal then, huh? Where do you reckon you'll photograph?" Emma asked, interested as ever. 

"Well..." Regina hummed. She had been thinking that London, alongside where she was living, would be an excellent place. The newspaper was doing an article about the North/South divide, a seemingly stereotypical British problem, she thought. But going to London... Going to London meant being in the same place as Miss Swan. Finding a way to dodge the question, Regina replied, 

"Probably just York. I'm currently in the process of constructing a schedule, so I'll see how much time I've got if I plan to travel further afield." Regina smiled, thinking she dodged the topic well. 

"Come to London," Emma stated, almost immediately.

Regina rolled her eyes, of course the blonde would recognise the opportunity to insert _that_. 

"No pressure though. Just a thought, there's all sorts of things you can photograph here." Emma added. 

"Hmm. I don't know..." Regina frowned, not wanting to really entertain the possibility to the blonde.

Realising perhaps she was being unfair and the topic should be dropped, Regina asked: 

"But how was your day, Miss Swan?" 

"My day?" Emma asked rhetorically, "just the normal. I went into the Toad in the Hole, the pub I told you about where Ruby works." 

Ruby, Regina thought for a second. Oh, yes, she knew who she was referring to, of course she did. That girl had been brought into many of their conversations.

"And we chatted for a bit while she worked. I bought myself a soda or a coke as they specify it here, and she asked about my work. I've just been set an assignment too, a small comic company want me to illustrate a few of their comics. Pretty cool, huh?" 

"That's wonderful," Regina replied, "good pay?" 

"Uhhh, yeah. It's decent, I've been offered less and offered more, but I'm not too bothered because it looks like something I'm going to enjoy." Emma stated. 

"Well of course, you would like something intended for children wouldn't you?" Regina asked, smirking. 

Emma's brief laugh vibrated in Regina's ear, causing the brunette to move it slightly further away. 

"Comics are for everyone. But hey, at least I can have fun, what a shame the same can't be said about you Regina," Emma replied, her voice teasing. 

"Oh, I can have fun," Regina sassed quickly, her voice husky and eyes dark (not like the blonde could receive this teasing expression through the phone). 

"Prove it." The blonde replied, "come to London and meet me." 

Rolling her eyes, Regina thought she should have consumed at least a few more glasses of red before talking with the blonde. 

"Will you ever stop asking?" Regina asked, simply because she feared there would be no end to this torture. 

"Nope. Never. I'm committed to the cause." Emma replied, and Regina could almost hear her smile. 

"Hmm. Stubborn suits you better," Regina stated. 

"Resilient," Emma corrected. 

"Annoying," Regina added. 

"Lively," Emma exclaimed. 

"Immature," Regina snorted. 

"Fun," Emma hummed, then added, "why do you still reply to my messages and let me call you, huh?" Emma asked, her voice playful still. 

"I ask myself the same question everyday," Regina rolled her eyes, glad the blonde couldn't see the smirk developing at the corner of her mouth. 

"Nah." Emma put bluntly, "you like me, I know it." 

"As much as one can like an irritating pest who can't handle her drink." 

"Harsh, Gina. When will you stop being a hard ass?" Emma asked, the lightness to her voice informing Regina they were both enjoying the banter. 

"When you stop being so annoyingly persistent," Regina scoffed, her smirk wide.

"Resilient." Emma corrected, adding, "so never, then." 

"It seems that way, Miss Swan."

"It does. What's that Miss Swan thing you do all about 'Gina?" Emma asked, the intrigue in her voice layered with an obvious dislike for the formal greeting. 

"Well you shorten my name to Gina, at least I'm using the correct name." Regina responded.

"But my name's Emma. No one has ever called me Miss Swan, other maybe than a teacher who was telling me off. Is it your way of reducing me to a bug that you can simply crush?" Emma teased, the tone of her voice playful once again. 

"What an apt description of yourself, Miss Swan." Regina smirked, the blonde's following sigh suggesting she had realised how she worked right into the trap she had unintentionally laid. 

Continuing, Regina asked, "didn't your mother ever chastise you using your last name?"

There was a silence...and a following shuffling that led to crackling noises reverberating down the phone. 

"Uhh, no. Never had one." Emma replied, with a certain innocence hidden behind the brazen declarative. 

"Oh, I, um..." Regina trailed off, unable to cohere a snappy sentence, realising maybe she'd hit a sore spot. After all, she didn't know much about the blonde's personal life. 

"No, it's okay." Emma exclaimed, the confidence back in her voice. "Just an orphan, that's all. Figured it wasn't a conversation starter, that's why I never mentioned it." 

Regina took a deep breath to prevent emotion that threatened to bubble up in her chest. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, dear. If I had realised I wouldn't have said." 

Emma sighed and replied, "like I said, it's cool. Just not a fun topic. I can't even see you right now and I can imagine your face. A bit like you just ran over someone's rabbit and you're wondering how you're gonna break the news to em'." 

"No, I'm just..." Regina hummed, the words in her head, but not leaving her mind. She had a bad past with parents too, but at least she had parents. As awful as one of them was. 

"...Sympathetic." Regina added, so as to not raise any questions about her reaction. 

"Thanks, Regina. But there's really no need, I'm good." Emma stated, the finality in her voice telling Regina this was a topic she didn't feel like going into. 

Looking around her living room and giving them both a few seconds to think, Regina moved the conversation onto lighter things. 

 

...

 

Half an hour later, Emma replied to Regina's good bye with a, "and don't forget to have a think about London, okay? We've spoken for ages. Well a few months. I'd love to meet you, you can prove to me that you can have fun, huh?" 

"Hmm," Regina hummed, "I suppose we'll see Miss Swan. Good night." 

"Night night, Gina." Emma replied, her voice laced with a subtle playfulness yet again. 

Regina cut the call and cleaned up downstairs.

...

 

Lay in her bed after she'd taken a quick shower, Regina glanced at her phone which had just vibrated and disturbed her from her current read, Emily Brontë's 'Wuthering Heights' 

Emma Swan's name was glowing. Leaving her phone for a few seconds, and eventually sliding it to open the message, Regina read: 

" _Some_ _links for good places to photograph here. I live near one of them_." 

Regina scowled at her phone, waited and then replied, 

" _I've been to London multiple times dear, I know all the places which would be good for what I require_.

 

 _\- R_ "

Almost immediately her phone buzzed with a reply, " _so_ _you've thought about it then? And know London well? Even better._ " 

Regina frowned hard at her phone, realising what she had just said, and how foolish her response was. Obviously not up to her normal standards of thinking ahead of the game, Regina decided she must be sleep deprived. 

She had sat and wrote in her diary about her evening, after all spending it in hell required a reprieve. A hell of her own creation, really, after deciding yet again, to talk to the blonde. So, really, her failure to respond intelligently wasn't really her fault. 

" _Good_ _night_.

 

 _-R_ " 

 

Setting her alarm for 7am the following day, she placed her phone on charge and continued reading the novel to her left side. 

...

Finishing the chapter, Regina placed the novel down, and switched her lamp off. 

Shuffling in her purple duvet, Regina closed her eyes and her face formed a frown. 

She would have to visit London for this job, it was unavoidable. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well it begins with Regina Mills waxing lyrical about coffee, so...
> 
> I don't know much about agencies, and how it all really works, so if you notice a discrepancy in what I'm saying, just let me know in the comments. However, it's not too relevant to the story so hopefully you won't mind. :)
> 
> \- Rozz, @reginasgay. Merry Christmas everyone! X

  

* * *

_;_

 

 _"I adore coffee..."_ Regina penned, picking her grey mug up with her free hand, and closing her eyes as the sweet, yet bitter smell diffused into her nose.

_"Coffee in the morning's; coffee at night when one is struggling to sleep. Despite how that may sound (caffeine in the evenings) I simply..adore it, it soothes and it calms. Even the process of making it, something as simple as instant coffee is just...euphoric. The pouring: when you lift the kettle and pour the hot water in, and hear the silver spoon scrape at the sides as you stir the granules in. The steam radiates, bringing with it the aromatic and warm smell. When you lift it to the lips and the liquid drips onto your tongue, you first detect the hot warmth, savouring the fresh taste for a few seconds. Then you inhale and tip your head back slightly, and as it reaches your tastebuds...it's almost if they're set alight. The taste left in your mouth has undertones of caramel, slightly burnt caramel, and you start to think of bonfires and the ash air after one. You just can't get enough, the taste lingering in your mouth leaves you dying for just one more cup._

_I've tried to capture the essence of coffee in my photography in the past. Once, I crushed whole coffee beans and threw it onto a white pallet. I photographed it, then utilised some images of a bonfire, and blended the two photographs together, and while they could never capture the true essence of coffee, they were to a certain degree what makes coffee so... layered, and indulgent._

_My coffee this morning provoked me to write in my journal. In fact, while I was drinking my coffee today, I remembered that it is Bonfire Night in three days. I normally 'celebrate' on my own, each year in this city I find a new place where I can view the entirety of it, and a vast show of fireworks. It's good for my photography. This year I'll have to organise a place in London for me to set my tri-pod up on; the change of scenery will probably be a good thing._

_For as long as I can remember, I've tried to celebrate Bonfire Night on my own, without thinking too much. Because Bonfire Night is when I finally decided, back in Storybrooke, that I couldn't handle my mother's tyrannical behaviour any longer, and I needed to venture far, far away from her."_

Regina sat up in her chair and shuffled in the seat, straightening her back with a sigh. 

_"If I can get some useful and desirable images of the fireworks, the day and night isn't too bad. But it...is an unusual day for me. Though it marks the end of her control over me, somewhat, it also marks the day I left where I inhabited for a large portion of my life._

_I hold no connection to Storybrooke, I didn't find any happiness living there and it was a dull and lifeless place. Intimate, and a home, for some. But for me, who only wanted to experience things and have an actual life, it was hell. I could never escape my mother, especially when I was younger. After my eighteenth birthday, I planned a secret venture to Boston with my friend - or whatever she was - Maleficent._

_When I finally came home, mother wasn't happy. Wasn't happy are the only words I can really give to describe her volatile reaction. It's safe to say that was one of my first and last rebellions against the reign of Queen Cora. It was also the last time I ever saw Mal, she and her family mysteriously vanished from the town and I... Never heard anything from her ever again._

_However, it seems as though I have strayed from my initial point: Bonfire Night. So while my project is specifically architecture, it can't hurt to photograph the fireworks also. I could possibly use some from previous years in York to show variation._

_I'd prefer to see this journal as something I can refer back to for details on my schedule, rather than me waxing lyrical. Thus far I have planned the date I am going to visit London. I am going to avoid a certain blonde that lives there, and all there is left to do now is inform the company about my plans. Also, briefly showing my face in the agency is a good idea just so they know how long I will be unavailable for. Which means, unfortunately, I will have to face Mary Margaret and her questions around, and in her words and not mine, my "internet friend"._

_Thankfully, the deadline for the article the newspaper set, has been pushed ahead to one more week which means I can avoid seeing Mary Margaret until tomorrow._

_Which concludes my writing for today, as I'm not in any way satisfied with this activity anyway."_

Regina closed the diary and left her bedroom, thinking fondly about the coffee she was about to make and the evening to herself. Unbeknownst to her a persistent blonde wished to text her, and she would, despite her best intentions, reply.

 

...

 

Regina looked across at her alarm, the hands on 6:30am, signifying the start of her day. The dreaded informing-of-Mary-Margaret day. 

Regina sighed with such magnitude that it was a subtle growl. Rolling her eyes, she got up out of the bed and glanced over at the en suite bathroom. She was a person whom quite liked early mornings, however today's morning was just not one of those days. 

She was rather startled when she reached the mirror. Her hair, normally neatly cut at the shoulders, was wavy and errant hairs were spread across her face.  She had obviously failed in wiping some of her makeup off last night, as there were traces of plum lipstick in her lip scar and slight smudges of black next to her eyes. 

Frowning at herself she turned the taps and proceeded to wash her face. She would need a shower again, as somehow she had woken up to find herself in a complete mess. After her shower she would have to ring the newspaper if she was going to stick to her schedule. 

 

...

 

"Thanks again for allowing me to photograph for you, it's a great pleasure." Regina smiled into the phone, her business voice on with a slight lightness in the tone. 

"No problem, Regina. Your work is excellent and we look forward to seeing it. Goodbye, and don't forget to inform us when you're back from the trip and have the photos ready." 

"I will stick to the deadline, don't worry. Thanks again, good bye." Regina pressed the red symbol to end the call and took her black coat off the peg. She'd gotten ready rather fast this morning, after all she was efficient with her time.

It wasn't lost on Regina that she was perhaps unfair on Mary Margaret. She was dreading seeing her so much it almost made her question why. Her positive and happy disposition provoked Regina to be nouty, but if she had to admit it to herself she did like the woman. Well, tolerate, would be more accurate.

Putting the keys into the ignition, Regina was pondering as to what exactly, bar the constant positivity that radiated from Mary Margaret, irritated her so much.

Yes, she was persistent in her questions surrounding Regina's love life, yes, she was a dreamer and a complete idealist. But Regina could deal with that, it was something else. Something deeper that Regina knew she just couldn't pinpoint. Shaking her head, Regina made a decision to not too deeply entertain her thoughts. She had to build up her energy to actually face Mary Margaret.

 

...

 

Strolling regally up to the grey desk, Regina observed the brunette crouched over it. She seemed to be writing something down with a frown on her face rather than the normal smile. That suddenly changed when Regina cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Oh Regina!" she gasped, "I didn't see you come in, how are you?" 

"Not bad, thank you. And you?" Regina noticed her smile was still wide from ear-to-ear, always happy. 

"I'm really good, actually! Have you taken up that recent opportunity with the newspaper?" 

"Indeed, hence me being here. It was something I couldn't turn down." Regina knew that it would pay decently and it was actually something she would enjoy doing, which sometimes didn't happen. She had to take opportunities like this when they arose.

"Okay, well how long do you reckon you're going to be doing it?" Mary asked, eyes wide. 

Regina referred to her internal timetable and recited, "well I was thinking that I already have plenty of photographs here which is convenient for what I wanted to do. All I need to do is visit London, I'm going to arrive the night before Bonfire Night, so I'm going soon." 

Regina perceived the light flicker in Mary Margaret's eyes when she said she was going to be away for Bonfire Night. 

"Okay! I'll note it down and let management know. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go out for drinks with the rest of the girls here. But never mind, I'm sure we can do something else soon!" 

Regina nodded and smiled politely. She rarely took the petite's offers to go out, she isolated herself and knew she did it but didn't see any problem to it. 

"Yes, I'm sure we can. Well I hope you have a lovely evening, I'm probably going to head off now so I can further plan ahead and get ready." Regina nodded and went to turn around when Mary Margaret tugged at her coat. 

"One second," she declared, excitement in her voice like she just had an epiphany. 

Oh god, Regina thought. What now? 

"Did you say... you're going to London?" Mary Margaret's face was plastered with the all too common smile. 

"I did, and why do you ask?" Regina asked, not catching onto what the dreamy brunette was thinking. 

"London. As in, London where your internet friend lives?" Mary rushed, her voice alight with joy.

Regina rolled her eyes and groaned. "Ugh. You do realise I only told you about her in the first place so you'd stop asking why my phone was pinging constantly?"

"I know I know, but you can't help me for wanting some happiness for you! So when are you meeting her?"

Regina was all too associated with her sunshiney disposition and hope for love. She was also very aware that if she told her that she had actually not informed Emma she was going - she'd dodged the question - that Mary Margaret would gasp and plead with her to tell her. But seen as she couldn't be bothered to dodge the subject, Regina replied, "well firstly I am happy without anyone in my life romantically. Secondly, I haven't told her. I hardly know the woman, it would be strange to meet someone I don't even know." 

Mary gasped. Predictable, thought Regina. 

"What? You can't just go to her city and not see her. You've been speaking for ages!" 

"3 months." Regina put bluntly, on what planet was three months a long time?

"That's ages! She's obviously interested, even if she just wants to be your friend, she pretty much blows up your phone all the time! If I had someone doing that I'd really want to meet them, Regina." 

A perfect opportunity to deflect the conversation appeared beautifully in front of Regina's eyes. 

"Still hung up on that Prince Charming you keep seeing with his girlfriend in Costa?" Regina asked, happy with herself as the garnered reaction from Mary Margaret was the desired one. 

"Regina... I can't help it. We glance at each other and there are actual sparks I swear to god! But obviously yeah, his girlfriend." She looked down and a sad expression developed on her face. Regina almost felt guilty for selfishly bringing it up. 

"Butttt," sprang Mary Margaret, eyes alive again, "you just did that thing you do! Meet Emma, Regina, please. You'll end up bumping into her if you don't, life has a funny way of doing those things!" 

Regina snorted at the naivety of her, her spirits always high, always believing in fate and true love and karma. "There's no way. You do know how vast London is, it's where you're from." 

"Well I guess it is. But I'm just saying! Don't do anything you'll regret! I know you never listen to me but, well, I won't take it personally." Mary Margaret put lightly, face unassuming and still alight with radiance.

Regina felt like rolling her eyes. She really was so sickeningly positive all the time that it came across as condescending, even if it was intended to be polite. "Glad to know you won't take it personally, anyway. I must be going, enjoy your evening and try not to spend too much time glaring at him on your lunch break," Regina teased, eager to deflect from talk around Emma. 

"Shh, Regina you make me sound like some love-struck teenager! I'm a grown woman! Enjoy London and stay safe. Make sure you tell Emma!" She almost shouted the last sentence because Regina was already strolling off, her heels provoking a few heads to turn and watch. Before she left she glanced back and smiled briefly and left.

There. She sighed a sigh of relief as she left the building. Telling Mary Margaret, done. Avoiding London talk with Emma, to do. Packing for the stay, to continue. 

 

...

 

Regina glanced at her watch, the hands on 7pm. She'd made use of the rest of the day by finishing her packing (bar the essentials she needed for the next day), so she could relax for the evening.

Kicking her legs up on the sofa, she picked up 'Wuthering Heights' and delved further into the novel, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She tried her hand at many genres, but novel's set in the Victorian Era intrigued her. They were dark, gothic, and romantic, though she wouldn't let herself admit that she enjoyed the romance. 

A deep buzzing emerged from underneath Regina. Frowning, the brunette started to feel ridiculously uncomfortable as she realised it was in-fact coming from underneath her bottom. 

Startled, Regina reached to grab underneath her, wondering what the hell it was. 

"Oh," exclaimed Regina, "my phone." Breathing a sigh of relief, she clicked the top button to see what had brought it to life. For a second there she thought that her phone was something else - and it worried her tremendously because she hadn't used that in, well, forever.

" _Hey_ _Regina_ , _how are you doing?_ _I know you're busy with the photos and all that, but I was just wondering if you had time to talk?_ "

Glancing at the screen and then off into the distance. Regina frowned at Emma's persistence. It was endearing - yes, people weren't normally as enthusiastic to spend time with her, apart from Mary Margaret, anyway. In-fact, Regina corrected herself, Emma wasn't actually spending time with her. Perhaps that was it - maybe it was that that made her so interesting. She was just a face in an icon, words in a phone, voice down the line. She wasn't a real person to Emma, was she? But...

Regina floundered. She was trying to appease her guilt around not telling Emma she was visiting London, she knew she was. Emma had consistently made it aware that she wanted to get to know her better. And what had Regina paid her with in response?

Deflections and sassy comments. She hadn't asked about her past; or about what it now became apparent, the hard times she had gone through. But if Emma had wanted to talk about those times, she would have brought them up. That much was clear to Regina, who knew if Emma had anything to say she would say it, always. It was her then... That has the option to push her past that, surely? And had she? 

Am I a terrible person? Regina asked herself, suddenly feeling a small heaviness in her chest. When she reached far inside, she actually did care. When did she start caring?

Her phone made a strange noise and pulled her out of her reverie. 

Regina nearly threw her phone off the couch when she saw that a blonde face was watching her, eyes wandering over her features, lingering on her lips for a few seconds longer, and then awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck and declaring, "hi..." 

She had somehow clicked call? But not an ordinary call, a FaceTime? What the? Regina didn't swear but she was close to at this moment. She never offered to do a face call for this exact reason, the same reason she only had one photograph of herself on her Instagram, it felt far too personal. 

"Ummm," a familiar voice spoke again, "I'm guessing you didn't mean to do that... I can cut the call, it's fine, I..."

"Wait." Regina responded, "I'll be a second." 

Placing her phone face down on her lap, she inhaled a few times and ran her hands threw her hair. She walked over to the small mirror in her lounge and checked she looked acceptable, removing the glasses that were perched on her nose. Thankfully, she'd been out today, so she still had her makeup on. 

Strolling back to the phone, Regina initiated her best business face and decided to view this as a simple mistake and something that could easily be handled. She was fine, completely fine. She'd stay long enough for it to be polite, and then leave and stick to text. 

Picking up the phone, she was greeted to an empty screen. Where had Emma gone? 

"Sorry," a voice rushed and a face appeared, "I was just making coffee, I decided to let you have a minute aha." 

"That's perfectly okay, Miss Swan," Regina husked, viewing the opportunity to discuss coffee as a perfect chance to deflect any awkward questions about how she accidentally called her.

"How do you take your coffee?" She asked, gesturing into the screen to Emma's Harry Potter mug. 

"Oh, uhh," the blonde spoke with hesitation. She was nervous, Regina thought, not how she had expected her to be. "I'll show you, it's uh, kinda milky..." 

Regina looked into the mug with a frown, how anyone could enjoy a coffee that was so milky was beyond her. 

"Remind me never to let you make my coffee, Miss Swan. That looks entirely repulsive," she teased, eyebrows arched. 

"Damn you really are as snarky face-to-face," Emma laughed, nervousness decreasing now. "Well how do you take it, Coffee Queen... Or wait..." Emma laughed, a light sparkling in her eyes that was new to Regina. 

"Or should I say...photographyqueen? Huh?" Emma looked entirely accomplished with herself, her face full with a smile.

Regina rolled her eyes and groaned in disgust. Why had she let Mary Margaret choose that as her Instagram account name? What possessed her? She was going to have to pay for that. 

Emma was laughing still, and Regina frowned. 

"What?" Regina asked, searching Enma's face and realising that truly... The pictures didn't do her justice. Subtly Regina shook her head at herself for thinking it. No, she had already had this discussion with herself, no thinking about her like _that._

"I don't know," Emma exclaimed searching the Regina's face, "but anyway, you didn't answer my question, how do you take your coffee? Let me guess, you take it black, right?" 

Regina rolled her eyes, and replied, her voice deep, "what made you figure that out? Figured that my coffee choice would reflect how black and darkened I am inside?"

"Your words not mine." Emma stated with a shrug and a mischievous smile on her face. "How can you drink black coffee? It's gross."

Regina tutted, "I can handle your remarks on every occasion, Emma. However if you disgrace black coffee, I'm afraid that I may have to block your number." Her voice was light, but with an undertone of seriousness. Regina was trying to appear business-like but it appeared that joking with Emma worked too, it distracted the blonde which was exactly what she wanted to happen. There were plenty of topics she wished not to broach. 

"Okay, okay, no judging you on your coffee choice. Got it. Anyway, why do you think you're a terrible person?" 

Emma was searching Regina's face again and suddenly she felt extremely exposed. It was as though Emma eyes were observing the mask-like façade she so often implemented, like they were trying to break through. However the more pressing matter here was how in the hell the blonde had figured out she'd doubted her actions?

"What?" Regina questioned.

"Oh, well when you called me, you were just looking off into nothing and mumbling, 'am I a terrible person?' So..." 

"Oh," Regina responded, "you heard that." 

"I did...sorry," Emma itched the back of her neck again and asked, "how did you call me anyway? It's clear that you weren't intending to."

Regina sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed but trying to hide it, "I don't know, actually. I was reading your message, I got distracted. I must have selected the call button...strange, but it's no problem. I can end the call now anyway, so it's fine, no harm done." Regina didn't mean to rush, she sounded affected by the situation. But at this point, she just wanted this to end, she wasn't used to this, it felt too personal.

"Of course, 'Gina. I only wanted a catch up if you weren't busy, and you look... I don't know," Emma trailed off, eyes searching Regina's face once more. 

"You don't know?" Regina questioned, watching Emma's facial expression. 

"Occupied, I guess." Emma declared.

"Somewhat, yes..." Regina trailed off, "with all the work I have on at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah. Um do you want to end the call, then?"

"It's probably best." Regina nodded, and in a split second she had the inclination to do something, something which for her was daring, and in amongst her realm of do-nots. "And Emma?" She asked, watching Emma as she tried to string the words together. Not with too much depth behind them, but enough for it to appear like a polite gesture.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, face in anticipation.

"Thank you for being...patient with me," Regina smiled very subtly and nodded in thanks. 

Emma frowned slightly, face showing confusion and another emotion too. 

"I'm not doing anything ext-" Emma stuttered, confusion clear in her emerald eyes which were scanning the room, then Regina in the screen. 

"Take the compliment, Swan." Regina husked, tone sassy.

Emma rolled her eyes slightly and replied, "sure, okay. Then it's...no problem, I guess."

Just as Regina's finger hovered over the red end call button, she took one more look at Emma's face, which gestured into the camera and smiled. Without even thinking, Regina smiled back and ended the call. 

Immediately she kicked herself for smiling and for looking back in the first place. Emma's emerald eyes had more insight in them than anyone's had before, they held wisdom in them despite the blonde's general state of immaturity, and Regina kicked herself for thinking about it. She couldn't let thoughts and feelings like this in. They were dangerous, and she had found comfort in self-preservation for far too long to break it suddenly.

But... There was much more to discover about Emma, that much was clear from seeing her in the flesh. However, Regina wasn't - isn't the one to do that, she reiterated to herself. That only made her feel guilty for once again not informing the other woman that she was visiting London.  

The day after tomorrow, she would be travelling to the city in which Emma was in. What was it she was so afraid of that prevented her from revealing it? Regina didn't know, didn't think about it for too long. There was too much to be done now to worry about what ifs, and for her liking she'd let in too much thoughts today, and they weren't providing solace or comfort.

Regina sighed and turned off the lights downstairs, taking her book, herself, and her phone upstairs with her. Turning her phone off, Regina exhaled and lay on her bed, staring far into nothing once again. 

Just one more thought permeated through Regina's mental wall - the other woman hadn't asked about London again, why? Perhaps she had grew tired of trying. She couldn't blame her. In fact she was glad that she had, that meant she didn't have to feel guilty at all. And plus the blonde would've had plans anyway, probably with her friend Ruby. 

Everything's fine, Regina thought. It'll all be okay. 

Taking in a few deep breaths, she decided to read her book for an hour and get an early night. She had plenty of travelling to do in the next few days, and she wasn't about to be too tired to do any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... this is probably heading where you think its heading.


End file.
